


Sweet

by howilookk



Category: Kpop - Fandom, NCT, NCT 127 - Fandom, NCT U - Fandom, SM Entertainment, WAYV
Genre: F/M, Smut, dom reader, mature content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26886862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howilookk/pseuds/howilookk
Summary: You work at a sweets shop, and one of your most frequent customers is none other than the tattoo artist who works just across the street.***this is pretty explicit! Just a reminder!
Relationships: WinWinxReader
Kudos: 13





	Sweet

Oh god-you thought. There he is again.  
You vigorously wiped Down the small table in the corner of the shop and ignored the tingle of the bell signaling someone entering.   
Your heart picked up, knowing it was him.   
It’s not like you ever talked much, and you barely saw each other around school.   
It was only these moments, him coming in to get a sweet before going to work across the street, that stood out the most.   
Which was saying a lot because... boy did he stand out.  
As you made your way behind the counter to take his order, you tried not to stare at his arms, covered in tattoos.   
For the most part, they appeared to be flowers and seemed to snake their way underneath his clothes.   
You’d wondered on more than one occasion just how much of him was inked.   
“Hi,” you said breathlessly.He gave a half smile, “Hey, what do you suggest today?”  
He came in occasionally, always ordering something different. Always asking what you suggested. And he would always order exactly that, then walk across the street to the tattoo shop.  
You hadn’t spoken much outside of the realm of desserts as a topic. You only knew he was a tattoo artist, and that he was beautiful.  
He wasn’t bulky like most men in tattoos usually were. He was delicate, with a small frame. He had to be around 5’11 or so, body slimming down towards the waist.   
His hair was a nice dark brown, always swept back out of his face- which was also gracefully crafted.  
With all of the ink to contrast, he was quite a sight.   
He was a porcelain vase, elegant and fine; mapped in floral display.  
“Well,” You said, turning behind you to eye the menu, “today’s special is the red velvet creamed donut.”  
He appeared to consider it, “I’ll take one.”  
That’s what he always said.   
You could feel him watching you as you swiped one from the display and bagged it. Wednesday afternoons were never very busy so one or two people on the floor was enough. To your surprise, you also remembered that there were no other customers in the shop.   
It was just the two of you.  
You turned back around, “Here you are.”   
You handed him his donut and he handed you some cash.   
Say something say something.  
You desperately wanted to tell him that you’d been inspired.   
You really, really loved flowers as well and had wanted a small tattoo of one on your collarbone for as long as you could remember. You had it all planned out, what it would look like, where it would go.  
But how weird would that sound?   
Would it seem like you were interested in him?That you wanted a similar tattoo to the ones he was covered in?   
Besides what if it hurt? What if you freaked out and he thought you were a wimp and never wanted to speak to you again?  
“Did they hurt?”  
He raised his eyebrows in question.  
You motioned at his arms ,”Those?”  
“Oh...” he eyes himself, “Well, not any worse than you’d expect.”  
You stared at him, “I... wouldn’t know what to expect,” you said with a slight smile.  
“Oh, you don’t have any?”  
You shook your head, “I mean... I want some. I just.. I don’t know. Can’t find the motivation I guess.”  
He took his change, “Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” And he smiled.  
His teeth were perfect. Your heart thumped.  
He started off across the street, holding the bag loosely.  
Stupid. Stupid.  
You didn’t even know his name. How would you know who to ask for?   
You pursed your lips.   
You wanted him to. To be that close to you. Touch you. Even if it were like that.   
Give you something that would stay with you forever.  
He was just the pretty boy from across the street, but you knew he was good at what he did. You could tell by the ones on his arms that he didn’t appreciate things that were cheap.   
And he’d been working at the shop for as long as you had at the sweet shop, if not longer...  
Stop, stop.  
You convinced yourself that you were being stupid. You couldn’t possibly. There was no telling how expensive it even was, first of all. Second, you weren’t very spontaneous. Although you HAD been wanting it for a while... it was always just in the back of your mind...  
You shook you head, attempting to put the thoughts away but becoming distracted with looking through the windows across the street.  
He didn’t show up for the next two days. That was normal, but for some reason it felt like such a stretch.   
You saw him go in and out of their shop when it opened, yet he didn’t even look towards your place. Didn’t even try looking for you.  
You pouted.  
He didn’t owe you anything. He was just being nice.   
Stop overreacting- you told yourself.  
Few people usually came in the shop during this time of year. You daydreamed about the vines on his arms. Snaking around.  
He didn’t show up for another two days. Now you were worried. You couldn’t even get yourself to read, you were so distracted.   
You didn’t know his name, didn’t know his age, hardly anything about him. But you wanted to see him.  
School droned on. You only took a few classes, not wanting to overload yourself. You didn’t see him there either. But that wasn’t unordinary.   
You drew flowers on your notebook as your professor spoke about Newton’s Laws.  
You looked at the clock in your apartment. 11:15 pm. What time did they close? You’d gotten off of work hours earlier and had done nothing but attempt to study physics.  
You couldn’t do it. No. What if he turned you away. What if he wasn’t as intrigued by you as you were with him? It was too much.  
The sweet shop had been so slow. You were practically falling asleep during each shift. Watching couples come in for an afternoon tea, or fellow college students come in to study.   
Every day working, then coming home to look over notes. Or going to class, listening to lectures over and over. Hardly going to parties but when actually going, never drinking anything or even talking to people. Re reading the same books over again in your free time.  
You suddenly realized just how boring your life really was. How drab.  
Not doing anything even remotely exciting.  
You chewed your lip.  
You couldn’t pretend to convince yourself that you just wanted to go simply because of the tattoo.   
You wanted to see him too.  
But either way, you wanted to do something.   
Something crazy.  
As soon as you stood outside of the tattoo shop, the regret started to sit in.   
It was 11:45 pm now, and there seemed to be no one on the street. No one around.  
You’d walked all the way here and realized just how stupid that was.  
‘Well you’re here now,’ you thought.  
You took a deep breath and opened the door. A gust of cool air hit you, and you peered around. The entrance was spacious.  
There were... hundreds of framed pictures lining the wall. All sorts. Band posters, tattoo designs, family members... you eyed the place some more. There were sectioned off small room spaces, seemingly for each different artist.  
As you took it all in, you realized that there was... no one around. The desk on the left was empty. Each of the rooms seemed vacant. There was a small hallway leading right at the back of the shop that you were too afraid to look through.   
What time did they even close?  
You turned around to eye the hours on the door.  
12 pm- 12 am. Oh.  
You sighed, the situation hitting you like a train. Ofcourse they wouldn’t be open. It was midnight.   
Embarrassment washed over you. Your previous courage diminished with the realization that you had to be the stupidest person on earth.  
Sudden footsteps came from behind you. Too soft to notice at first. Not until they were right behind you.  
“Can I help-?” He stopped as you turned around, eyes wide.  
“I...” You began, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t check the time.”  
“You... wait why are you here?”  
Why else would I be here?-You mentally asked him yourself. Then you realized that you really didn’t know the exact answer to that question either.  
“I just... I had a tattoo that I always wanted to get. I’m sorry, I’ll come back later-“  
“No, it’s fine.”  
You glanced back at him. His tan skin shining underneath the fluorescent lights.  
“But you’re closed?” You pointed to the door.  
He shrugged, “Today was slow anyways. I don’t mind.”  
“Is...” You peered around, “is anyone else here? Or.. were you going to?”  
He furrowed his brows, “Did you want someone else to do it?”  
You swallowed.   
“I... I just didn’t know if you’d want to... if you were busy with something else.. or...” you were acting like an idiot but you couldn’t help it. He looked absolutely stunning. He had those expensive adidas running pants on. The form fitting black ones, along with a somewhat loose black shirt.   
He smiled, “No, I’d love to. What have you got?”  
He started to walk towards one of the sectioned off rooms. You pulled up the picture of the tiny flower on your phone as you followed him.   
Inside the room, there were bright lights everywhere. Artwork hung off of the walls as well. In the corner of the room was a plush couch. Bright red.   
To the left was the station he had set up, along with a cushioned table to lay or sit. Apparently for people getting tattooed.  
You caught him staring at you.  
“You like it? I tried to make it homey. I still have some decorating to do though.”  
You smiled. Then something caught your eye.  
You stepped towards the framed drawing.  
“You did this?” You asked him, fingering the glass covering the paper.  
“Yeah, I drew them all,” he said. You took another look at them all. Most of them were... well flowers.  
On the paper you were eyeing was a tiny bouquet of them. The stems tied together with a tiny vine.   
“I.... can I get this one?” You turned to him, his face drawn in confusion.  
“I mean, I was going to get this,” you showed him your phone. “But...” you turned back to the drawing.  
“You want me to tattoo that on you? My own work?”  
“Is that ok?”   
He gave one of his signature half smiles, “Yeah, it’s just... nobody ever really looks at those. Have to admit though, mine is definitely better than what you have on your phone.”  
He pointed to the picture shining through your fingers as you held your phone. You laughed.  
“Let me get everything set up, you can chill for a minute,” he took the drawing off of the wall and carried it out of the room.   
“Just getting a copy so I can print it,” he said over his shoulder.  
You sat on the couch, it was more comfortable than it looked.   
Lines of colored ink sat on top of the desk he had in the opposite corner. All sorts, and you wondered what color you should get.  
You could hear him shuffling around every now and then, and your heart started to pick up.   
You were about to have needles in your skin.   
What if it hurt? Really bad? What if you did something stupid like faint? What if you couldn’t handle it?  
He returned with a small paper, on it was the print of the bouquet.   
“Where did you want it?”  
“Oh, on my collarbone,” just as you said it, you realized that you were wearing a tight fitted T-shirt.   
“Oh....” you said.  
He eyed you, “Well you’ll have to take your shirt of. You can cover yourself with it though once we start, if you want. It gets kind of chilly in here.”  
You nodded, your nerves getting to you.  
He slid some black gloves on.   
“Alright, ready to put the print on?”  
“Oh yeah, sorry, hang on.”   
Without thinking, you slipped your shirt over your head, not checking to see if he was looking or not.   
It’s casual-you thought. He’s a professional, he doesn’t care.  
You walked over and sat down on the cushioned table.   
He spun in his chair, his cheeks somewhat flushed as he lightly placed the sketch on your skin. His touch was light, but it sent a chill down your body.   
He peeled the paper away.  
“Like it?” He asked. , “you can look in the mirror over there.”  
You got up to face the small mirror next to the couch.  
The flowers were bundled on your collarbone perfectly.  
“It’s perfect,” you said, “I guess I’ll just get the usual black ink too.”  
Luckily you had worn a comfortable bra with not much padding so that when you laid down, it wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Although you did wish you had worn one that was cuter.  
“Just lay down here,” he said quietly, and you obliged.  
“What if it’s too much?” You asked him as you watched him get his gun ready.  
He laughed, “Trust me, it’s not bad at all. I won’t hurt you, promise.”  
Your nerves only fluttered slightly.  
“My name is Si Cheng by the way.”  
He was wrapping some sort of rubber band around the gun now.  
“Oh... mine is Y/N.”  
“I know.”  
“.... you know?”  
“You wear a name tag.”  
You huffed a laugh, “Oh yeah.”  
“Alright, you ready?”  
You sighed, “Yes.”  
“Ok,” he whispered.  
He rubbed at the print on your skin. Eyeing it for a second.   
Then he bent his head down, extremely close to yours, and pressed his fingers down.  
You closed your eyes as he brought down the gun.  
You sucked in a breath as soon as you felt the bite of the needle, but he didn’t pull away.  
“You good?” He asked, breath moving past your face. It smelled like cherries.  
As he moved, you realized that it actually WASN’T that bad. In fact it almost tickled. Nothing like the initial pain.  
“It’s fine, actually,” you said to him.  
“That’s good, wouldn’t want you crying and running out of here.”  
You smiled, “Never.”  
He pulled your skin every which way, to get the right angles. His face seemed to get closer and closer, expression drawn in concentration.

It felt so good, you realized. The pain of it. It’s not that it hurt very bad, but it hurt just enough. And looking at him... his face so near. Dark eyes focused on you...and it WAS chilly..   
You almost went to cover your boobs, realizing that you were probably hard now but thought better of it when he suddenly stopped.  
“Do you need to move? Just tell me first,”  
“Oh I... um,” if you moved your arm, it would be in the way.  
He watched for a second before you finally settled with, “No, I’m fine. We can continue.”  
He had to have seen. There’s no way he didn’t. You’d literally just done the opposite of what you had intended.  
You closed your eyes in embarrassment for a few seconds, just steadying your breathing.   
When you opened them again, he was holding back a smile.  
“Almost done,” he said.  
You sighed, “Ok.”  
“You still ok?”  
“Yeah I’m good. I .... I kind of like it. It’s calming.”  
He looked at you shocked, “Don’t hear that very often,” he laughed, “I feel the same though. I mean it hurts but it’s steady.”  
You nodded.  
“Alright, hold on a second,” he said, then he added some touch ups.  
“Alright?” He asked.  
“Yeah, just nervous. And sore.”  
“Here,” He said, and he blew cold air onto it. His lips were so close to your skin, you shivered and could feel yourself peak again. You covered your chest.  
He wiped it a few more times, “Take a look.”  
You sat up slowly, getting out all of the creaks from laying for a while.  
Stepping over to the mirror, you gasped.  
“I... I love it,” you said. A small, pretty little bundle of flowers lined your collarbone.   
Fine and delicate. Just like him.  
“Si Cheng?” You said.  
He raised his eyebrows at you.  
You shook your head, “Just wanted to make sure I got it right.”  
“So you like it?”  
“Are you kidding? It’s incredible,”  
He glanced around for a second while you still admired his work.  
“Here, I have to wrap it,” he said after a few seconds.  
“What?”  
“I have to put some healing stuff on it and wrap it up.”   
“Oh... ok.”  
You went and sat back on the table.  
With his gloves still on, he put a clear liquid on your new tattoo. Rubbing it in gently. He then tore off what looked to be plastic wrap and taped it over.   
“Alright, well you’re all set,” he said.   
He was still sitting in his chair, eye level with you.   
“Thanks,” You said, “so what’s your favorite dessert so far?” The words were out before you could stop them.  
He seemed to falter for a second before saying, “I’m not sure.”  
You smiled, “Not sure?”  
“Yeah... I’m not...” he scratched the back of his head, “not really a sweets person so.”  
You drew your face in confusion, “Not a sweets person? You’re there all the time.”  
He gazed at the floor a moment before looking back at you, “Come on, I don’t come for the treats.”  
It took a moment to register what he was saying.  
“Really?” You asked, still confused.  
He gazed at your exposed skin for a second before confirming, “Yeah.”  
You felt your smile spread. That’s all he had to say. All you’d wanted him to say.  
“Soooo...” You said.  
“....Soooo...” he mimicked.  
You cupped the side of his face and pressed your lips to his. They were as soft as they looked.   
“Mmm” he hummed against you, his voice deepening.  
You kissed him again, pushing closer.  
“Watch the tattoo,” he whispered against you. You bit his lip to shut him up. You weren’t interested in anything else right now.  
He suddenly grabbed the sides of your neck to pull you in, but it still wasn’t enough.  
You got off of the table and settled in his lap. You were wearing athletic shorts that stretched easily against you as you pulled your legs apart to fit onto him.  
His eyes were hazy as you kissed him, this time deeper. You could taste the cherries on his tongue.  
You pushed together, pulled apart, and pushed together again.  
“Hang on,” he said breathlessly, “let me look at you.”  
You pulled away from him and his eyes grazed over you, shamelessly spread out on his lap. He ran his hand over your lips then pushed two fingers in your mouth.  
You indulged him and sucked hard on both of them, swiping your tongue over the bottom.  
The look on his face send heat shooting down your body.  
He pulled them out and drug them down your chin, eyeing your every move.  
You scooted closer towards him, fully on top of the part of him you wanted most; putting your full weight on top of him, grinding slightly.  
He let out a soft breath.  
“Rub against me,” he whispered against your lips.  
“Shhhh,” You said, pushing a finger to his mouth.  
Being told what to do was never your forte, but you wanted to do what he demanded so badly that you decided to obey. For now.  
You moved against him and he looked at you in a way no other guy had before.   
You wrapped a hand around his throat, only giving a slight squeeze as you pushed yourself onto him.  
“You like that?” You whispered next to his ear, kissing his jaw. He didn’t answer.   
You rolled your hips continuously, drawing heavy breaths from him.  
You drug your lips across his jaw and back to his face, returning to his lips.   
Suddenly, after a few minutes, you remembered something.   
You pull away.   
“Take your shirt off. Let me see your tattoos.”  
He gave a half smile and shifted to pull his shirt over his head.   
Tossing it aside, you eyed his skin. Tan and perfect. Body not too big, not too small. And covered in vines and all sorts of flowers. Roses, tulips, and so many others.   
You ran your hands over him as his chest rose and fell harshly from the kissing.  
You took your time, tracing his skin. Memorizing every mark before reaching down to kiss his neck, leaving marks as you pleased. He made hushed noises every now and then that sent you reeling. Making men squirm was one of your favorite past times.   
“Get up,” you said finally.  
You drug him along and pushed him onto the couch. He went to lay down-  
“Uh-Uh,” You said, “Sit.”  
He gave a nervous smile as you kissed him one last time before kneeling down.  
His adidas pants were fairly easy to pull down, it was his boxers that were difficult.   
After having to stand to remove them, he sat back down, completely naked.  
You took him in. His thighs and hips were covered in ink as well. The same sorts of designs. He appeared to have no other sort of tattoos other than flowers.  
You felt heat pool between your legs.  
“You good?” He asked, and you looked up to see his unsure expression.   
You traded answering with words by simply wrapping your hand around his dick and squeezing.  
His eyes twitched only slightly.   
“Open your legs,” you told him. He pushed apart slightly, not nearly enough.  
You let go of his dick and pushed his legs apart instead. He was surprisingly flexible, most guys complained at the stretch.   
As soon as he was far apart enough, you moved in, having more room to work with.   
You grabbed him again and moved your hand up and down slowly.   
It was so pretty, as pretty as he was, and the perfect size.   
After looking a few more seconds, you couldn’t restrain yourself any more.  
You wrapped your lips around him. The taste was salty and pleasant.   
His breath hitched in his chest even though you only surrounded the tip.   
You gave just the first inch some attention itself for about a minute, sucking and rolling your tongue.  
He seemed to be teetering on the edge of begging for more, but he didn’t say anything.  
His fingers twitched at his sides, curling and uncurling.   
You pushed all the way down, suddenly, and he let out a strangled gasp, running his fingers through your hair.  
You pulled off, slapping his hip.  
“No touching,” you said.  
“Huh?”  
“No touching. Don’t move,” and you resumed your previous task after catching the somewhat disheveled expression on his face.   
You pressed the insides of his hips down to give your head more room to reach farther.   
Your throat stretched with every push but it was a pleasant strain.   
“Please.... please just-“  
You slapped him again, on the same hip.  
You licked a strip underneath him before coming up to look him in the eyes, “Don’t speak.”  
And you sunk back down on him again.   
You worked for a few more minutes before getting somewhat bored. Besides, you didn’t want him coming so soon, and you needed to attend to your own needs.  
You pulled away again and stood up, eyeing him.  
He was sweaty, and breathing harshly.  
“Touch me,” you said.  
He looked unsure for only a second, before he grabbed your hips and pulled you forward.  
Leaning his head in, he gave soft kisses to your stomach.   
You reached up and undid your bra, letting your chest go free.   
At the action, he sat back and looked you over for a few seconds, before lowering his head to one of your boobs.  
He immediately began pulling and sucking with his teeth and you felt the pull between your legs again, letting out a groan.   
“Fuck,” you said. It had been forever since you’d done anything like this.  
He pushed his head to the other side and repeated the action again.   
You held his head in place, savoring the way his tongue rolled over your skin. The way his hands grazed your hips.  
“Come on,” he said against your chest, “let me touch you for real.”  
He kissed down your chest and stomach again, and pulled your pants down along with your underwear.  
“Shit...” he said, eyeing your panties.   
He laughed slightly, “You enjoying yourself?”  
You didn’t answer, but let him guide you on the couch.  
Switching positions somewhat, you laid down and he kneeled on the floor next to your legs.  
He eyed you for a few seconds, “So pretty,” he said as he kissed your knee.  
As soon as he did, he pressed a finger into you.  
“Fuck,” you whispered again, back arching on instinct. He curved it, pushing it on the perfect spot.   
Your mouth fell open slightly as you focused all of your nerves at the point where he was inside you.   
How had the night ended up like this? Just two hours ago you were trying to re read Hamlet for the fourth time, and now..  
Looking back, you saw him watching you. Eyeing every expression. Every move.  
Fine, let him look- you thought.  
He reached up to palm one of your boobs just as he pressed another finger in.  
You made a noise that was a bit louder than intended and he smiled with pride.  
You’d been ready for this for so long that it didn’t take much.  
“Go faster,” you told him, and he pushed his fingers in harder, quicker. Watching you intently.  
Suddenly you felt his other hand reach around and rub against the nerves between your thighs.  
“Shit shit shit”  
And then everything went whiter than the room already was, with it’s fluorescents.   
Noises spilled out of your mouth and you made no move to stop them.   
Wrapping your hands around his arm, he kept pushing in, slower and slower until you were finally through.  
You took a moment to calm yourself, then wiped the sweat from your upper lip and looked back at him.  
“Like that?” He asked as he put the fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.  
You just stared.  
Ok, so he really wanted it then.  
“Get up,” you told him, and he stood.  
You pushed him into the couch, hovering over him.  
He was so pretty. So elegant. You were going to pull him apart.  
You kissed him for a moment, before pushing yourself onto him, slowly.  
His mouth flew open next to yours as he gasped then threw his head back.  
You did the same, the stretch feeling incredible.  
“God,” He said, grabbing your hips. You ran your hands down his chest again, feeling the heat beneath it.  
The both of you took a moment to gather yourselves before you began moving in precise, slow movements. Pressing backwards then lifting up to pull back up to his face.  
He bit his lip, guiding you with his hands.  
“You’re so fucking hot,” he said, “you always were, but now...”  
“Shhh,” you said, grabbing his hands with yours and raising them above his head.  
He gave a slight laugh.   
You began to pick up the pace, his breaths getting more and more hitched.  
God, he was so beautiful. His hair splayed out beneath him. Pretty, swollen lips. His legs spread open when you were bobbing your head onto him. The noises he made.  
You traded hands, grabbing both of his with only one of yours. The other wrapped around his throat again, squeezing the sides of it.  
His eyes opened to look at you, and you went even faster. Giving him a smile.   
You could tell he liked it.   
You leaned down next to his ear ,”Come on. Come for me.”  
He moaned and you felt it against the hand on his throat.  
You leaned above him again so he could see you, “Come for me,” you repeated.  
“I....” he began. He was close, you could tell.  
By now you were moving as fast as you could, pushing up and down on top of him.   
Come on, come on.   
You wanted to see it. See him so badly. See the look on his face.  
“I’m about to..” He said, and suddenly, you got a strange idea.  
Remembering your similar feelings towards tattoos...   
The moment his breath caught, you squeezed your hand tighter around his throat and reached down next to the skin just below your hand. Where his neck connected to his shoulder.  
And bit it. Hard.  
The noise he made almost made your hair stand up. You’d never heard anyone make a sound like that.  
You could feel him spilling into you, leaking down your legs and it felt so deliciously good.   
You pulled back to look at him and released his throat.  
He took a huge breath and immediately ghosted a hand over where you had squeezed.   
You watched as he continued to fall apart beneath you. Trying to regain himself but failing when his orgasm lasted longer than he had intended.  
Kissing him afterwards, you ran your fingers through his hair.  
“You ok?” You asked.  
“What the fuck you... you BIT me?”  
You looked at his face, “Did you not like it?”  
He laughed, “I mean.... yeah. Yeah I did. A lot actually.”  
You smiled.  
“Damn I never imagined the quiet girl from the dessert shop would... I don’t even know the word I should use for what you did to me.”  
“Well as long as you liked it..”  
He gave another half smile, “Let’s do it again. Except this time,” he pushed you off of him and turned you around, pinning you beneath him, “it’s your turn.”


End file.
